The film's soundtrack is an original musical composition produced with synthetic sound - through photographing unusual geometric shapes and running them through an optical sound head. The ... See full summary »

A woman returning home falls asleep and has vivid dreams that may or may not be happening in reality. Through repetitive images and complete mismatching of the objective view of time and space, her dark inner desires play out on-screen.

A delicate and secluded ceramist sees his orderly life turn upside down, when a gigantic hand in a white glove invades his space, demanding that a sculpture of itself is made. When will the hand's obstinate demands stop?

In the outback, on the railway station there lives a family. 4th grade schoolboy Vasya Rubtsov is experiencing the death of his beloved best friend the cow. The boy remembers how they used ... See full summary »

Connections

Frequently Asked Questions

User Reviews

I don't much like ballet. In fact, of all the popular dances out there, ballet strikes me as the most uninteresting and tedious. At least, that was until I watched Norman McLaren's 'Pas de deux (1968).' Suddenly, every movement seemed gentle and graceful, hypnotic and inspiring. McLaren uses optical effects to bring out the majesty of human motion, to create a dizzying duet of silhouettes, dancing a routine that slows down and transcends time and space. Utilising an optical printer to reprint images from one frame of film to the next, McLaren elegantly manipulates the typical flow of time and motion. This was an achievement with which the animator was well-acquainted. In his most famous short, 'Neighbours (1952),' Mclaren parodied the typical mechanics of movement, in which pixilation (stop-motion of live-actors) was employed to create a disorientatingly-unreal morality play  though I found that particular short to be too unsubtle and obvious to be of any real note as a war-allegory.

'Pas de deux,' on the other hand, is completely graceful is every respect. Human bodies diverge, are occasionally suspended in time, but often dance alongside their mirror-images. Finally, with perfect precision, the corresponding images fuse into one single entity, and the ballet continues. Time is a fleeting concept; once a particular moment has passed us by, it is lost in eternity and can never be retrieved. McLaren recognises movement as the chief indicator of passing moments, and so, as he toys with the movement of human bodies, he also toys with human notions of time, capturing and replaying otherwise lost moments for us to experience once again. By the film's end, the two ballet dancers are all but indistinguishable, perceived only as a blur of transitory silhouettes, moving as a subtle mist that only vaguely resembles the human form. Like translucent ghosts, the dancers perform their routine, every movement, rather than existing only for a fleeting movement, remaining on screen long enough for us to saviour its grace and dignity.

1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?
| Report this